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Who is a good boy? [mf] [bdsm] [dom/sub] [puppyplay] [drugs]

[X-Post from r/erotica] Here we go... It's my first text in this subreddit and I hope I did the tagging etc right. I wrote this based on a real evening after my boyfriend and me came home super horny and still a bit infused from the drugs... Enjoy!

You know how it feels. You know how it feels when you come down from the drugs. Your head gets confused, you talk about random shit and you ... get this thing. The tension between you and your darling. You tell them everything. They tell you everything. And then, when you are home you Fuck – Each- Other – So – Freaking – Hard.

like a gift [m/f]

I'm still shaking.

I've been seeing this girl for a week. Everything about her features is severe. Her eyes are nearly black, her skin is pale olive, and she has thick dark hair that messily drapes down her back. As far as conventional good looks go...she's only slightly attractive.

She knows herself so well. She knows what she is capable of. She doesn't laugh much. She doesn't wear makeup. My god, she is so knowing. To me, she is sex. Her name is Camille.

[M]y Office MIL[F] experience

A little background: I'm 26, tall, decent looking half-Indian guy, who went to college around Philly. I know everyone thinks all the stories here are fake, so I am keeping it as honest and detailed as possible. A few years ago, after my junior year of college, I had an internship in the city.

Nailed two fantasies in one night at the goth club [M/F]

I've been lurking around this subreddit for awhile, hoping somehow, someday I'd have something I can share and, by George, I think I've got one! So this might be a bit long, but I'm trying to flesh out as much of my experience as I can so hopefully that's appreciated.

Red [m/f]

My entire body was tingling with anticipation as I laid on the bed – spread eagle, bound to all four corners of the bed by my wrists and ankles, wearing only my bra and dress. My tights and red thong were somewhere on the floor, discarded a few moments ago. I turned my head, looking at the red cuff that held my hand firmly in place. The colour matched my bra. Suddenly your hand grabbed my chin, and forced me to look back up at you. You were holding the blindfold – also red.

“Let’s put this on, shall we?”

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